


Purr Purr Purr.

by All_time_low3st



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Castiel in Heat, Cat Castiel (Supernatural), Catstiel, Human Dean Winchester, Kit Castiel, M/M, No mpreg, Omega Castiel, Scentmarking, Top Dean Winchester, adoration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 21:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_time_low3st/pseuds/All_time_low3st
Summary: Prompt from Zarauthforesaken on tumblr:Cas is a Kit and can't stop purring while around Dean but Dean doesn't mind at all. He enjoys hearing those little purrs. It is, after all, a sign of affection. Dean bought his little cute kit because he wanted company and someone to share affection with and he's very happy with his choice. In May, when spring arrives (the time where Omega kits can go into heat), Dean gets a little surprise because; 1. He didn't know that Cas was an Omega (he always was under the impression that Cas was either a very territorial Beta or an unusually affectionate Alpha).2. He didn't know that Omegas could go into heat when there were no other kit nearby (kits only go into heat if a potential partner is nearby).3. He didn't think it was possible for a kit to perceive a human as a mate (especially since a kit could only get offspring with another kit).4. He didn't think that the kit loved him the same way that Dean loved Cas (again, kits can only produce offspring with another kit and shouldn't be interested in any other species than their own).





	Purr Purr Purr.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZarauthForsaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarauthForsaken/gifts).



Dean looked at the front of the building, the colorful aquarium painted on the front and the bold red letters saying Lawrence Companions

   It was just after Thanksgiving, which had been a colossal disappointment. The one member of his family still around couldn’t manage to make it in for the holiday, too wrapped up in his studies, so Dean had spent it alone eating old pizza straight from the fridge and drinking a smidge too much whiskey, the news droning mindlessly on his tv.

   Dean exuded a tough guy persona and acted the epitome of the ladies’ man, but at the end of the day he just wanted his family; he just wanted someone to spend holidays with, to curl up with, to… to love. He was just… so lonely.

His last girlfriend had left him, though it had been a rather mutual decision. They hadn’t really been in love; they had simply been comfortable. Her son had liked him, and they’d filled gaps in each other, but it wasn’t what they wanted to spend the rest of their lives like. They both wanted more. It hadn’t hurt any less to be on his own again, though.

So here he was, standing outside in the bitter chill of early December like a creep, flurries of snow dancing in the sky around him. Newscasters said it wouldn’t stick, said the ground was still too warm, but that didn’t stop it from catching in his hair. He decided to bit the bullet, and stepped forward, swinging the door open, the bell jingling above him to announce his arrival.

He was here for a kit. He’d done some research about companionship and based on his lifestyle and what he wanted, a kit was the best fit. They were pretty self-reliant, depending on their presentation they could be very cuddly, and they were calm, which would, theoretically, work well in his small apartment.

He wandered around the upstairs of the store where all the supplies were kept. Collars and leashes, food, pans, electric fence setups, cages, kennels... He always thought kennels were cruel though, they were always so small, leaving the little guys so cramped and sad looking.

The store clerk asked if Dean needed any help finding anything, and he politely declined. It wasn’t too long before he worked up the balls to go downstairs. There were reptiles on the far wall, their eyes following him and damn, those guys were creepy. On the opposite side were the kits.

They were in glass pens, ten total, five on the bottom and five on top. Some were sleeping, others eating. They each wore plain white outfits with cutouts for their tails, each in different states of cleanliness. There was a clerk down here too.

“Hello,” she called out.

“Hi,” he mumbles, shoving his hands down into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m uh, I’m looking for a kit.”

“Well, you’re in the right place,” she says with a slightly sarcastic smile. “I’m Jo.”

“Dean,” he replies, shaking her hand.

“Alright Dean, so what are you looking for in a kit?”

“Nothing too crazy. Probably an omega.”

“You a cuddler there, Dean?”

“What? No,” he says defensively, turning towards the kits so he doesn’t have to look at her.

“Then you don’t want an omega. They need that kind of affection or they can get sick, and sometimes they even die if you neglect them too much. You’d probably be better with a beta, or even an alpha.”

There’s a pretty red one looking at him, a girl. The glass only goes halfway up the pen, and he sticks his hand in, rubbing at her ears. She leans into it for a second, then decides she’d rather have some water instead.

“I’d like it to be kind of affectionate,” Dean mumbles. Jo nods at him before telling him about the kit he’s looking at.

“That’s Anna. She’s a beta. She’s a little distant so she might not be quite what you’re looking for. She’s reached maturity but never had a litter. She was born and raised here. Is the kits parentage important to you?”

“Nah. Hey, little guy,” he wags his finger at the one next to Anna, considerably smaller, and he leaps for Dean’s finger and gnaws on it.

“That’s Gabriel. He’s an alpha, and he’s rather wild. Very playful, but not always gentle or careful. We’ve had to get him out of the rafters more than once.”

   Dean smiles at the kit until he bites harder and draws blood.

   “Son of a bitch!” He cradles his injured finger to his chest, and damn if the kit doesn’t look smug as it walks away and curls up on his bedpad.

   “And he’s a biter.”

   The next one pays him no attention whatsoever, barely gives him a courtesy glance before laying back down, turned away from him.

   “And that’s Michael. Alpha all the way. Very good lineage, prestigious pedigree, but a bit of an attitude. Maybe he just hasn’t met the right person yet.” Dean glanced at his price by chance and gawked. Jo takes note and is quick to alleviate his concern. “You pay more for good lineage.”

   He scans a few more pens before one of them catches his eye. The kit inside is small and curled in on himself in the corner. His tail is curled up around him, nuzzling his nose, his dark ears twitching. Dean crouches in front of his pen and whistles at him.

   “He’s probably not going to be a good fit for you. He’s pretty skittish and likes to tuck himself away. He’d probably spend all day under your bed or in a closet.”

   The kit’s ear twitches when he whistles again, and bright blue eyes blink open to regard him.

   “Hey, little guy.” Dean pushes his fingers through, and the kit tilts his head at him. Dean looks over at the price and his brow furrows. “Why’s he so cheap?”

   “He was abandoned. We found him in the alley behind the building when he was young. Didn’t get to finish breastfeeding on his mom before she ditched him, so he’s small. He’s reached maturity though he still is the size of a young kit. We’re pretty sure he’s a beta. He hasn’t gone into a heat in the two years since he’s reached maturity, and we’ve never noticed a knot. He’s standoffish enough to be an alpha, but we just aren’t positive about his presentation.”

   The kit stretches out, and then approaches Dean with apprehension, sniffing at his fingers before rubbing against them.

   “That’s it, buddy.” Dean smiles at the kit who continues to circle and rub back against his hand. “What’s his name?”

   “Castiel.”

   “Hi, Castiel.” Surprisingly, the kit starts purring, a deep rumble emanating from his little chest.

   “Would you like to see him in the visiting room? People who are interested in a kit are allowed to actually interact with our kits in there. More space and some toys to mess with.” Dean nods and Jo disappears behind the counter and unlocks the pen on her side before leading the boy-sized kit into the room. She leads ahead of Dean, and the kit cranes his neck to watch Dean follow them.

   Dean sits down on a bench inside the glass-paned room, and Jo closes the door and walks away. Castiel regards him for a moment from across the room before walking towards him with small steps. Dean slides off the bench, planting himself cross-legged on the floor in front of it, and extends his hand to the kit.

    Castiel sniffs at it, and then bypasses it all together, crawling directly into Dean’s lap, his head pillowed on Dean’s thigh, a soft rumbling vibrating his leg as the kit purred. Dean sat there a moment in awe before smiling softly and running his hands through the kit’s hair, scratching at his ears, only increasing the volume of the happy sounds Castiel was making.

   He’s not sure how much time passes, but he’s perfectly content sitting here with Castiel and he realizes his decision is made.

   “Do you wanna come home with me, Cas?” The kit looks up at him, sleepy blue eyes blinking up at him, confusion written all over his face until the words finally seem to click and he pushes his face into Dean’s chest and nuzzles him, the purring still resounding around the room.

   “Yes,” Cas says, his voice deep and sweet and yeah. Dean was lost on the little guy already.

   “Come on then.” He says, gently pushing the kit off of him and standing. Cas’ tail was swaying, almost resembling a happy dog, his energy impossible to fully contain. Leaving the room and approaching Jo quells that energy a little bit, and the purring dies down when they’re in front of her.

   “All done?” She asks, opening the little door that leads to the back area and beckoning Cas to come to her. Cas shies away, hiding his small frame behind Dean’s broader one. “Now, Castiel,” she admonishes but Dean cuts her off before she can get any further.

   “Actually I want to adopt him. I want him to come home with me.”

   “Oh! Oh wow, that’s great. His uh – presentation and history doesn’t bother you?” Castiel’s hackles rise at her words and Dean shushes him gently, running a hand through his hair absently.

   “What do I need for him at home? And treat him like he’s lesser than any other kit in here again, we won’t be coming back.” Jo is unfazed by his words but turns to take him upstairs, Cas trailing in his wake.

_________________________________________________________

   Cas hadn't been sure what to think when the green-eyed human, Dean, had shown interest in him. He had never been to the visitation room before today, most people's interest fading either at his apathetic response to them or by his questionable lineage. A lot of people looking at kits for companions wanted a nicer breed or wanted an affectionate kit, or a protective one. No one wanted him. He was too skittish and too even-tempered.

Until Dean anyway. Dean hadn't cared what Jo had said. It's true, Jo had never been mean to him, and on occasion, she had tried to pet him since he hardly ever got human contact, but he never tolerated it long. It just made him... uncomfortable. It wasn't like that with Dean though. He was almost drawn to the man, the moment he had caught his scent he'd been interested. When it had been just the two of him, he'd felt safer than he had in a long time, since his mom had left him under a bridge somewhere.

He never dreamed that this man, who walked weird, would take him home, or that he'd snap at the girl for saying Cas was lesser than the other kits, but here they were, Dean fumbling with the lock on his door, and Cas standing behind him, tail wrapped absently around his own leg, Dean's flannel draped over his shoulders to cover the poor excuse for clothing the adoption center had provided him.

He'd startled Dean by standing behind him while he was putting away the food, and Dean’s comment about personal space almost felt like rejection, so Cas slipped away quietly, looking around what he hoped was his new home. He hadn't had a home in a long time, and he wasn't completely sure if he would be allowed to stay. He didn't want to go back, not to that small cubby, not to the other kits that he never really got along with. Especially not the mean purebred that kept trying to bite him during their short playtimes.

Between the fear of being sent back and the memories of what was, he'd worked himself into a depressed state, and he longed to go back to Dean, but Dean was busy. He sighed, his tail winding around his leg for comfort; his ears flattened against his head.

He padded down the hall and caught sight of a room he assumed was Dean's bedroom, between the lived in state and the thick smell of the man, he was sure he was right. He poked around a little, peeking in the closet, and debating whether or not to curl up under the bed or not. In the end, he was lured into the center of the kind man's scent: his bed. He tucked himself up under the comforter and wrapped himself up in the sheet, the collar of the flannel pressed against his nose.

He dozed off there, sleeping better than he ever had in that pen, and was oblivious to Dean calling out for him.

 

Dean's shoulders open the door to his apartment, bags full of stuff on both arms – both for Cas and for himself. He throws the stuff down on the counter and jumps slightly when he turns around and Cas is inches away from him, looking up at him with bright eyes.

“Watch out buddy, you’ll get your tail stepped on sneaking around behind me like that,” Dean says, trying to be preventative about the kit’s safety. Especially in the mornings, Dean can be a little absent minded, meandering around the apartment in somewhat of a daze pre-coffee. He’s sure in that morning fog in these next few days, he’s likely to miss the kit’s slender tail, and he would hate himself for it.

   Cas’ ear twitches and he steps back ever so slightly and Dean steps around him, reaching for the frozen food and starting to shove it haphazardly in the freezer.

   When Dean turns around again his kit is gone, and Dean just shrugs, assuming his new companion is taking in his surroundings, learning where everything is and if his new home is satisfactory. Dean swallows back the concern that the kit may not be happy here and finishes what he was doing, the frozen food already shedding it’s frost from his prior contemplations.

   He goes to his room and looks around. His unmade bed is empty, and he doesn’t see the kit under his bed either. He sticks his head in the closet but doesn’t see him there either. He wanders into the bathroom and pulls back the shower curtain.

   “Where the hell did he go?” he mumbles before stepping out into the hallway. He checks to make sure the front door is closed and that he didn’t get slip out, but it’s shut and locked though he doesn’t remember doing that.

   He gives up and heads to his room, wanting to lay down a little bit before he tried to make dinner. He flops down on the covers and jumps back up when a whine pierces through the room and Cas’ little head pokes out from under the covers, the disarray combined with his small form having kept him hidden from a cursory glance.

   “Sorry, buddy,” he says, settling back down now that he knows where he’s been hiding. Cas crawls on up to him, laying his head down on Dean’s thigh and nuzzling him. “You don’t have any issue invading my space do you?”

The kit’s warmth combined with the stress of the holidays makes Dean yawn, and when the kit snuggles closer, Dean smiles contentedly.

Dean hadn't expected to fall asleep there, or for him to nap for nearly three hours. He probably would have napped even longer if Cas hadn't been rubbing and licking at his neck with his rough tongue.

"Take a girl on a date first, Cas," Dean mutters brushing his hand through Cas' hair. The little kit is purring again, quite loudly, and Dean decides against pushing him away, seeing that the contact seems to be giving the kit some sort of comfort.

Dean has had friends with kits, but he's never seen this level of affection from anything but an omega. Still, Cas not going into heat was a sure sign of him not being an omega. He frowns slightly, Cas must just be a weird beta. Or perhaps he could be an alpha with a strange way of showing possession. It didn't really matter either way; Cas was perfect, he's exactly what Dean wanted, exactly what he needed...

Dean finally pulled himself out of the embrace at seven so he could fix something for dinner. The kit whined in protest, but didn't try and stop Dean from leaving; he did follow him though.

He made burgers and French fries, something that wouldn't take too long to make since he was still trying to get Cas settled in, and he was feeling kind of lazy. He liked the food, and he liked cooking, he liked cooking a lot, but there were some days he just didn't feel like cleaning up after it. Plus, burgers were damn good.

He poured Cas a bowl of the special diet that Jo had recommended and dressed up his burger, popped open a beer and settled in. The table was small with three chairs, and Cas scooted his chair closer to Dean's. Dean smiled and put his arm around him in a sideways hug, giving a brief squeeze before diving into his burger. The sound he made when he took the first bite was grossly inappropriate, but he had a soft spot for three things: burgers, pie, and a good glass of whiskey.

Cas was looking at him with wide-eyes, his ears cocked and tail swiveling behind his head. Dean coughed, trying to mask the embarrassment he could feel burning up his cheeks, but the kit just kept staring.

"Eat, Cas," Dean says, trying to motivate the kit to look anywhere but at him. Cas glanced down at the bowl wearily before taking a bite. He made a face and made prolonged chewing sounds before finally swallowing. He stuck his tongue out and Dean laughed heartily. "So much for the good formula shit." Cas levels a glare at him and Dean shrugs. "It's supposed to be good for you man."

Cas makes a grab for Dean's burger, but Dean swipes the plate out of his reach before he's able to get it, eliciting a heartbreaking pout and whine combination from Cas.

"Please?" Dean's eyebrows shoot up at the deep voice that comes out of that small frame. Talking isn't unheard of in kits, though Dean was surprised to hear it from one that seemed so poorly socialized, and so soon. Now that he's thinking about it, a lot of what Cas has been doing is marked behavior of a very comfortable kit. Behavior that isn't typically seen until two or three months after being introduced to a new environment.

He sighs and shakes his head before relinquishing his burger, hoping nothing in it is toxic. His first bite into it elicits a moan even dirtier than Dean's, accompanied by the deep purring as he wolfs down the burger and starts pawing at Dean's plate for his fries. Dean surrenders them to him, pushing up from the table to make himself a new plate.

____________________________________________________

Two weeks later:

 

Dean is sitting on the couch with Cas' head in his lap, the kit purring idly while Dean stroked his ears, when the doorbell rings. Cas' ear perks up beneath his touch and he blinks lazily, rousing himself from his dreams. Dean gets up slowly, making sure Cas pulls his weight off him before standing so he doesn't push the kit into the floor by accident.

He's weary as he approaches the door, not sure of anyone that would be visiting him right now, and he didn't order take out. When he takes a look through the peephole, the apprehension melts away instantly, giving way to excitement and joy. He throws open the door and launches into his gigantic brother's arms.

"Sammy!"

"Hi Dean," Sam says, smiling gently at his excited older brother. Sam is dressed casually, unlike Dean has seen him in a long time. His younger brother usually dressed to the nines for court, but now he resembled the teen Dean helped get on the bus for years in his jeans and flannel over v-neck shirts. The beanie over his mop of hair was new though. Dean pulls it off and swings it around for a minute before tossing it inside, aiming for the couch but probably falling short.

"What are you doing here, man?" Dean asks, stepping back to let Sam into the apartment. When he turns around Cas is gone, and Dean frowns at that, but figures he'll turn up shortly.

"Well, I know I missed the holidays and that's really important to you," Dean tries to wave him off but Sam levels him with a look that stops the words in his throat, "don't even try that Dean. You've been like that ever since dad passed. Spending our holidays together is like a staple, so I'm here to make up for it - managed to get the whole weekend off." His smile is broad, and Dean is sure his is matching in wattage, seeing as it feels like it's splitting his damn face.

"I-uh don't have a guest room so."

"The couch is fine Dean. Did you have plans today?" Sam asks.

"No, just sitting around and relaxing," Dean pauses, looking around. 'Where did Cas run off to?'

"Oh God, do you have someone here?" Sam asks, face drawn up like he's picturing Dean in the sack with someone.

"No, no." When skepticism crosses Sam's face he reiterates. "No! I haven't brought anyone home in weeks," he says, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing there's a conversation about to happen because Sam can't just leave well enough alone.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, it just... wasn't doing it for me anymore." He mumbles, not really wanting to get into the conversation about how depressed he was getting when he'd wake up and his partner was already gone, how he'd lay in bed and stare at the ceiling on his nights alone, unable to fall asleep with the quiet ache in his chest. Which... hadn't been a problem since Cas had come into his life. Isn't that something... Maybe he just needed some companionship, maybe he just missed his brother.

"Maybe it's your subconscious telling yourself you're ready for something more than one night," Sam offers and Dean rolls his eyes.

"You lost me at subconscious," Dean says with a laugh that sounds so fake he wants to cringe. Sam looks at him, really looks, and opens his mouth like he wants to say something and then just... doesn't.

"Do you want to go get some lunch?" Sam asks, jabbing his thumb towards the door.

"Yeah, I know a great place. Well, maybe not for you since you eat rabbit food." Sam shoves at him gently.

"I can still eat a burger. I just intend on living past forty."

"I'm here for a good time, not a long time, Sammy. Let me go get changed." Sam nods and pulls his phone out of his pocket, plants himself and his long legs on the couch and snatches back up the beanie Dean had commandeered off his head.

Dean has to physically restrain himself from running down the hall and flinging clothes in every direction. When he gets in his room though, his whole train of thought goes sideways at the small whine he hears when he steps in. Cas isn't on his bed like he usually is, which makes Dean frown. That's the kit's favorite place to lie, especially when Dean leaves open his blackout curtains and lets the sun shine through onto the bed so Cas can bask in it.

"Cas?" He calls, and the whine stops. He can still hear hitched little breaths though, and he thinks they're coming from the closet. He pushes the door open and finds Cas curled up in his pile of dirty clothes, which is kind of gross, because most of them are work clothes from being in the garage, and kind of sweet because he knows they smell like him. "Come out of there, Cas, why are you sleeping in the closet?" The kit looks up at him and the broken look in his eyes has Dean dropping to his knees and running his hands through his hair in an instant. "Hey, what's up, buddy?"

"Do I have to leave now?" He asks, and his voice is shaking and Dean wonders where in the hell he got the idea he'd have to leave.

"No, why would you think that?"

"Sam," he mumbles. "Sam is here, Sam is more important."

"Cas," he reaches forward, scooping Cas up into his arms and sitting on the bed, the kit, whose weight is finally starting to be somewhat normal instead of the skinny little thing he was. Cas wraps his arms around Dean's neck, burying his face in Dean's neck and inhaling deeply, nuzzling the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. He feels something warm in his chest at the weight of Cas on his lap. The kit had been so skinny when he first brought him home. Weight gain in a new environment is a good sign, a sign of a happy kit, of one that’s adjusting well, getting enough affection as well as nourishment. He squeezes the kit closer, happy with this development, hoping to continue making Cas feel welcome, making him feel like he’s _home_. Like he’s here to stay.

"Just cause Sam is here doesn't mean you have to go. Sam is just visiting. I need you here."

"Really?"

"Yes," he smiles, ruffling Cas' hair when he hears the purring he's gotten so accustomed to over the past two weeks. "I'm going to lunch with Sam, are you gonna be okay here?" Cas nods, pushing into Dean's touch.

"Dean?" Sam calls from the door. "You still coming?"

"Yeah, just gimme a minute," Dean pulls away, pulling off the shirt he'd slept in and dropping it on Cas' head, hoping to ease the crestfallen expression the kit gets every time he has to leave the house. "I'll bring you something back, kay?" Cas nods and then makes a dive for under the covers.

"Are you talking to someone in there, Dean?" Sam asks, his tone falling to worry. Dean sputters for a second, not sure Cas is ready to meet his brother, and not sure Sam is ready to meet Cas.

"Uh - phone call. Work." He strips faster than he does when he wakes up and it's ten minutes past his last alarm, throwing on clothes before jumping out the door and slamming it behind him.

"Uh huh," Sam mutters, looking over Dean's appearance with a brow quirked. "Alright, well whoever's not in there, I'd like to meet her if she decides to come over later. Since there's obviously no one in there right now." Dean rolls his eyes at his brother.

"I'm serious Sam. I'm not picking girls up in bars anymore." Sam stares. "Or anywhere else. I'm good. Hell, I'm great." Sam looks surprised, and almost like he believes what Dean is saying, and Dean is a little surprised to find he means what he said. He's happy. Happier than he was going sort of steady with Lisa.

"Well your shirt's inside out," Sam says with a smirk before walking away.

"Fuck," Dean curses, scrambling to get it the right way around.

________________________________________________________

Dean doesn't end up saying anything to prepare Sam over lunch. They get to into talking about Sam's new job, and life on the coast, and his new girlfriend Sarah who was an art major and just got a piece in a gallery. Dean offers up little from his life because besides Cas, there hasn't been anything remarkable about it. Up until two weeks ago, it was work, sometimes whiskey at the Roadhouse, and then medical dramas at home until midnight when he'd crawl into bed and wait for a couple hours of sleep to take him, rinse and repeat. Sam said he visited their parents before he came to see Dean, with the implied 'She would want more for you, Dean' in his eyes. He sidesteps that talk altogether. He knows his mom wanted him to go to college, wanted him to do more than what he's doing, but losing dad kind of ruined that for him. It's not like he doesn't have a good job either, Bobby is great and the guys at the shop are cool, even if all they do is make superficial small talk and never venture to see each other beyond work. Sure, Dean had dreams once upon a time, to go to college and do something. When his mom first got sick he was four and said he'd go be a doctor so he could cure her cancer.

Well, he didn't, and nobody else did either.

Dean fumbles with the lock, trying to put his car key in it instead of his house key, and he can feel Sam's well-meaning concerned look on him.

"I've uh- got someone for you to meet," he tries. "Well, not really someONE-"

"Dean," Sam cuts him off. "It's fine."

"Suit yourself," Dean mutters before leading him towards the bedroom. Sam looks confused but Dean decides not to try and say anything else. "Cas?"

"Cas?" Sam echoes behind him and Dean shushes him.

"I want you to meet Sam." Dean walks up to the bed and pulls back the covers. "Ugh, not again." He complains.

"You should really clean up better," Sam says, noticing the pile of clothes in the bed.

"I did! He always does this though."

He expects Sam to question the pronoun and falters when Sam takes it completely in stride. He'll deal with that later.

"Cas," Dean says more firmly, and the kit finally blinks awake and sits up.

"Oh," Sam says from the doorway. "He's... he's young."

"Cas, this is Sam." Cas turns to face Sam, Dean's sleep shirt hanging loosely off his shoulder.

"Hello," Cas says, and then his tail flicks up from under the pile of clothes.

"He's a kit," Sam states. "You have a kit?"

"Yeah, he's been here a couple weeks now." Dean scratches at Cas' ears, and his loud purring fills the room.

"A couple weeks? Did you see him a lot before you brought him home?"

"Nah. It was kind of impulsive. I hadn't even really decided until I saw him."

"Dean," Sam says in his warning tone.

"Don't start, man." Dean nearly pleads, as if sensing the tension building up. Cas whines and tugs on Dean's hand, pulling him to set down next to him on the bed. "It's alright Cas. You're still staying," he reassures, eyes set hard on his brother, daring him to start shit.

"No, Dean. I don't mean it like that, it's great. Really, it's just-"

"Just what," Dean snaps.

"Calm down, Dean. It's just odd that he's that comfortable around you."

"Yeah. I dunno Sam, I know it's a little odd but uh... he's good."

"As long as you're happy Dean. Can I?" He asks, reaching towards Cas. Cas looks at him, then back at Dean. Dean nods as if reading the question in the kit's eyes. He crawls down the bed towards Sam, his incessant purring subsiding as he approaches the unfamiliar male. Sam lets him sniff his hand, and Cas reluctantly stays still while Sam scratches his ears the way Dean had been doing before retreating back to Dean's side. He looks up at Dean expectantly, and he sighs and starts stroking his hair; the kit purring loudly as soon as he starts.

"How long did it take for him to warm up to you?"

"Couple minutes. He just kinda stared at me, then he came over and started purring like he does. He barely stops. Not sure I could sleep in the quiet anymore I've gotten so used to it."

"Is he matured?"

"That's what they told me."

"He's kind of small for a matured kit," Cas growls lowly at that and Dean flicks his ear gently.

"Be nice," he admonishes.

"What presentation is he?" Sam asks, and Dean frowns, knowing the look on his brother's face; knows he's studying Cas.

"Not sure. He was abandoned. Never had a heat or a knot so the people at the shop were pretty sure he's beta."

"Hm. How long had they had him?"

"Couple years or so. What’s with the third degree Sam?"

"Sorry, sorry. I'll relax." Dean nods at him, thankful that the subject is dropped. This is part of why he didn't tell anybody about Cas, or that he was thinking about getting a kit in the first place. He didn't want to answer all the questions, didn't want to tell everyone Dean Winchester is just a lonely bastard who can't keep a woman.

"Movie?" Dean asks, looking at his brother.

"Yeah sure."

"Awesome, I'll make some popcorn and grab a couple beers, you pick a movie. They're in the box next to the TV." Dean turns to leave, and Cas hops off the bed to follow him, barely a couple inches between Cas and Dean's heels. Sam grabs his phone and punches in a couple quick searches.

"Uh, Dean?" He calls, noticing the clothes on the bed again. His brother doesn't reply so he wanders into the kitchen where Cas is perched on the counter beside the microwave watching Dean intently. "Dean."

"What?"

"He's nesting."

"Come again?"

"Do you have another kit?" Dean frowns prominently.

"No, just Cas. Cas is all I need." Dean's face reddens, blushing prominently when he realizes what exactly he'd said, and Sam is pretty damn sure Cas preened beside him, and his tail wound loosely around Dean's wrist where it lay on the counter by the kit's pajama-clad leg.

"Well, he's built a nest in your bed."

"He does that every time I leave, it's nothing."

"It's not nothing, Dean. Get this, it says here that kits, and only omega kits at that, only nest in the presence of a prospective mate."

"Then he's not nesting because he's not an omega and there's no mate. He hasn't even gone outside to meet another kit, and there wasn't anyone he was interested in where I got him or he would have had a heat." Sam frowns but doesn't pursue the subject any further, his thoughts interrupted by the dinging of the microwave. Dean pulls out the bag and upturns it into a plastic bowl before throwing another bag in to cook. "Go pick a movie, Sam."

Sam recognizes the dismissal, and turns.

Dean returns a couple minutes later, Cas unsurprisingly in tow, and a heaping bowl of popcorn in his hands. A kernel of which he tosses back over his head to Cas, who catches it in his mouth.

"You feed him that junk?" Sam asks.

"He likes it. And he won't eat the special diet food I got him. He pouts." Cas shakes his head behind Dean. "Yes, you do, don't you lie, I see you in the TV."

"You own ‘Inception’?" Sam asks, holding up the DVD.

"Yeah, bargain bin purchase. I don't really get it." Sam huffs at him.

"Why do you do that, Dean?"

"Do what?" He asks, plopping down on the couch, his arm splayed over the back where Cas quickly tucks himself in, snuggling in close.

"Act like you're dumb."

"I don't do that." Dean defends.

"Yes, you do!" Cas bristles at his side at Sam's raised voice. "It's like you think just because you didn't go to college you can't be intelligent and you _are_. I don't know why you act like a fucking idiot all the time!"

"Cas, shit!" Dean says when Cas launches himself off the couch and hisses at Sam, his arms splayed out as if somehow that could block Sam's words. "Cas!" The kit turns to him, his usually soft and caring face contorted with anger. "Sit down," he says, his voice firm. Cas doesn't budge, and Dean gestures to the couch behind him again. "Sit down. We're just talking. I'm fine." Cas holds for another moment before leveling Sam with another fierce glare and stalking back to the couch, sitting down stiffly, his muscles still taught with tension.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam asks and Dean just shakes his head.

"He's protective all right."

"Yeah. I can see that. Talk to me, Dean. Please?"

"I don't know okay? Dad never cared what I did in school. The only time he seemed remotely proud of me was when I brought a pretty girl home. Then he'd slur from the couch and she'd never come back."

"So this is because of dad?"

"No. Yes? Maybe. I don't know okay, Sam?" His arms are busy gesturing as he talks, nervous energy running through his body. Cas whines behind him. "I know, buddy," Cas whines louder and Dean turns to him, seeing his blue eyes filled with open worry. He steps back and lets his knees hit the couch and lets gravity pull him back into the cushions. Cas climbs into his lap and nuzzles his neck, rubbing his cheek across the stubbled skin there.

"What... is he scenting you?"

"Can we drop the questions, Sam. He does this when he's anxious, or I'm anxious. It's soothing for him I guess.”

"Well it's just weird, that behavior a second ago was alpha like, but the nesting is omega behavior, but he doesn't have heat or rut-"

"Just leave it alone, Sam! It doesn't matter to me what he is. He's just Cas!"

"Okay-okay," Sam says, raising his hands in a placating manner. "I'm sorry. I'll drop it."

"Thank you. Can we just.. watch the movie? Please?" Sam nods, plopping a random DVD in the player without really looking at it. Thankfully it's a comedy, and the tension dissolves within the first ten minutes, both of their postures relaxing, Dean's hands running down Cas' spine, Sam chilling in the corner, chewing loudly on the popcorn Dean had left in the middle cushion.

Cas never really warms up to Sam. He tolerates him giving him brief bouts of petting, but will eventually retreat back to Dean's vicinity. Dean continues scolding Sam when he sees him looking at Cas with those analytical eyes like he's still trying to decipher him. He doesn't understand why Sam is so fixated on all this, it's not like Cas' behavior is hurting anyone. Dean likes that he's affectionate and cuddly, the steady rumble of his purr is soothing and the nuzzling, well, kind of feels like Cas is claiming him back. The nesting is a little frustrating because he has to undo it every time he gets home, but it's not a big deal. He just throws it back in the hamper because Cas almost always uses his dirty clothes to make it.

Sam leaves Sunday evening so he can get back for some client meeting on Monday morning, so Dean and Cas have dinner alone. Dean has long since quit trying to feed him his kit food and just makes an extra plate of whatever he's having; it's usually devoured by the kit with gusto. He wonders how bad the kit food is when even the simplest things Dean makes have Cas moaning around bites and thank God they don't have dinner guests often.

They continue in much the same pattern until spring: meals together, Cas marking him before bed, nesting while he's alone, near knocking Dean down the second he's back in the door, and the constant purring filling any sound void in the little apartment.

In spring, early March, Dean isn't met by Cas at the door when he gets home.

There's mewling coming from his bedroom and yeah, that's new. When he opens the door Cas is on his knees in the middle of the 'nest,' though this time it's not just clothes, Dean's nice pocket knife is among the articles, blessedly, closed. His spare set of keys to Baby are in there, his class ring, his mother's wedding band he can see glinting from the edge, and then there are pebbles scattered about and Dean has no idea where he got those. It's a god damn nest. A _mating_ nest, filled with objects intended to please the intended mate. But Cas doesn't have a mate, and those are _Dean’s_ belongings...

Then there's Cas... His boxers and sleep pants are pooled around his ankles and his chest is bare. He's all lean muscle covered in a thin sheen of sweat, panting against the mattress. There's liquid running down his inner thighs, and God, he's just pumping three fingers in and out of himself, his tail twitching in the air as he does. Reflexively, Dean covers his crotch where a burgeoning erection is forming. He takes in a sharp breath when his hand touches the rapidly filling flesh and Cas' ears twitch and lightning bright eyes are focused on him.

"Dean," his kit rasps and it's broken and needy and fuck. This is not okay.

This shouldn't be happening... Cas isn't an omega... Dean can't be a mate. Cas is off the bed and in Dean's space in a flash. Dean feels Cas’ skin burning even through his clothes, all four and a half feet of him pressed up against Dean's body. His face is flushed beautifully, highlighting the blue of his eyes.

"Dean please," Cas begs and Dean groans, feeling that plea go straight to his cock. This isn't _fair_.

"Cas," he croaks. "You're an omega?" He asks though it seems the answer is painfully, in more ways than one, obvious.

"Yes. Your mate, Dean. Need you," he says, rubbing against Dean's leg. Out of curiosity, he looks down to see the tiny dick demanding friction against his jeans, hard and leaking against the denim. Cas' pants are abandoned on the bed, and the kit is pressed flush against him, naked as the day he was born. When Dean hesitates, Cas’ slender fingers wrap around his belt of his own accord, flicking open the buckle, a the soft metallic clink louder than a dropped bowling bowl in the otherwise silence of the room. Dean’s breath is bated, afraid even an exhale would break the scene, the dream he’s been reluctant to contemplate up till now.  His button is popped and fly down before Dean can really ground himself and his breath forces itself free in a sharp exhale, and then Cas is on his knees. The last functioning neuron in Dean’s brain explodes.

Dean had seen enough porn to know where this was going, and with those canines, well, he was more than a bit concerned about it.

“Hey, Cas, come on,” he says, beckoning the kit up from his knees, his tail sagging with disappointment.

“Dean. Please,” Cas whines. Dean lets his head fall back and it hits the door with a thunk. He can’t pretend he’s never thought of Cas sexually. He keeps it in the dark recesses of his mind because he couldn’t stand the thought of Cas rejecting him, or worse, Cas accepting his affections out of some feeling of obligation rather than love.

His feelings for Cas had kept him up well into the night often, the kit long since fallen asleep on his lap, purring softly. It hadn’t occurred to him until recently, the way he hadn’t had a date since he found Cas, and that he didn’t feel like he had the hole in his life anymore. He felt right, more than he had in a long time, maybe more than ever. He loved Cas, and now here he was, begging for Dean, and he was hesitating.

Cas is beautiful. There’s no question. Dean had known that the moment those blue eyes had turned on him in the adoption center. He was fair skinned, his muscles lean but defined, and his ass alone has Dean sporting a semi quite often.

He’s already harder than he ever has been in his _life_ , his cock throbbing against the zipper. Cas is squirming on the edge of the bed, eyes downcast and face crestfallen.

“Cas?” Dean asks. Cas doesn’t look up but his ear twitches where it’s flattened against his head. Cas is always beautiful, but this isn’t a look he ever wants to see again. “Cas, look at me.”

The kit does look up then, blue eyes shining with unshed tears, his cheeks still burning with his heat. Dean knows that it’s now or never.

“Do you- do you love me, Cas?”

“You’re my mate,” Cas mutters. “Of course I love you. For a long time I have.”

“You know I can’t give you kids right? We aren’t compatible.” Dean doesn’t know why he can’t leave it alone, why he can’t just accept what Cas said, why he’s damn near pushing for rejection. Except he can. He’d rather be discounted up front instead of falling for Cas only to be replaced by someone who can give him the things Dean just can’t.

“Don’t need them.”

“I don’t have a knot.” Cas seems to think on this for a moment, and Dean braces himself.

“You’re big enough without it.” Cas decides, and Dean splutters.

“What? When have you?”

“Dean, you masturbate frequently. Your penis is very large. Will you _please_ mate me now?” Dean tries to swallow down the fact that Cas has apparently seen him jerking himself and walks towards the kit who looks ready to leap off the edge of the bed and pounce on him.

“I can’t claim you Cas.”

“You misunderstand what is important to me Dean,” Cas admonishes. “I love _you_.”

“Fuck it,” Dean curses, taking the last couple strides quickly and wrapping his arms around the lithe omega. Cas whines, taking Dean into the v of his legs, his heels digging into Dean’s calves, urging him closer.

Their lips meet and Dean’s burning, scorching along with Cas, fire in his veins, lightning in his heart, singeing his neurons. Cas has soft lips, and they feel so right against Dean’s. Dean’s suddenly not sure why they haven’t been doing this the whole time. Cas’ hands are scrabbling at his shoulders, pulling on the flannel, his heels making grooves in the backs of Dean’s thighs.

Cas nips Dean’s lip with his canine, sharp and quick, enough to twinge with pain but not enough to draw blood. Dean moans into his mouth, leaving Cas an opening to slip his tongue in, which he eagerly takes.  

Dean’s hands roam south, grabbing Cas’ ass which draws a loud moan out of Cas and Dean makes it his mission to get more of those pretty sounds from the kit. Dean stands, pulling Cas up with him, the kit eagerly wrapping his legs around Dean’s waist, a small sound of shock slipping past kiss swollen lips at the display.

Dean relocates Cas’ arms to wrap around his neck and yanks the flannel off his body, discarding it haphazardly to the floor. Dean happens to glance at his bed, noting the wet spot where Cas had waited on the edge.

Something snaps in Dean and he growls, grabbing the sheet and flinging it up, knocking the knickknacks and clothes out of the way, kissing Cas harshly before dropping him onto the center of the now clean bed where Cas whines, already desperately missing the feel of Dean against him.

Dean pulls the belt, already unbuckled, free from its loops and tugs off the black tee. When the shirt clears his head and he can see again Cas is on his knees fucking _presenting_ and Dean grips his cock through his jeans, way too close to coming just from the sight of that pretty hole dripping slick, tail flicking back and forth, whole body thrumming with anticipation.

“Cas,” Dean drawls, running a hand down the kit’s side, drawing a shudder out of him.

“Yes?”

“On your back,” Dean croons, and Cas complies quickly, his legs falling open, his small cock leaking against the bare skin of his abdomen, his balls shiny with slick or precum or both.

“Kiss me,” Cas says, nearly pants, as he’s lying there, open and waiting. “And for the love of _God_ , fuck me.”

“Gotta get you ready Cas,” Dean says, reaching for his night stand to fetch a condom. He’s got it in his hand when slender fingers wrap around his wrist and he’s met with pleading blue eyes.

“Please, just you, Dean.” Dean bites his lip. He’d never gone bare, not even with Lisa, his longest relationship to date. “You have my papers. I’m safe, and I can’t get pregnant. Please. Need your come.”

Dean decides he’s breaking all his rules tonight, and tosses the condom, relishing in the happy sigh that falls from his lover’s lips as he falls back onto the sheets.

Dean crawls over him, capturing his lips with his own, brushing the hand not holding himself up through soft dark locks, and down Cas’ slender neck. Cas’ legs fall open wider and Dean quirks an eyebrow before trailing his lips lower, down a defined jaw to the junction of his neck, sucking and nipping the flesh, delighting in the way Cas’ breath hitches and his hips stutter in their relentless rhythm against his leg.

Dean pulls away enough to sit up and unbutton his jeans, dragging them down along with his boxers so Cas’ doesn’t chafe himself against the rough fabric. They’re both bare, not a stitch between them as Dean descends, latching to the point where shoulder meets neck, biting as he slips a finger into Cas’ slick hole.

He’s not sure what part of him is controlling his movements seeing as he feels like every last brain cell has been incinerated into ash. Cas is loose around his single digit, stretched from his own ministrations before Dean had come in the room.

Cas is panting against Dean’s ear, his warm breath puffing, one hand grasping at the short strands, urging Dean closer, _closer_. Dean is almost sure he’d be content to suffocate in Cas’ skin.

He gives a sharp nip to Cas neck as he slides in his second finger, a yelp turned moan drawing itself from Cas kiss swollen lips. God, he’s not sure he’s _ever_ going to leave this bed. Except, unlike Dean’s other relationships, if you can call them that, he _does._ Because he likes Cas, loves him. He loves their shared TV time. He loves Cas pretending to be sneaky while he takes bites off of Dean’s plate after finishing his own. He loves feeling the kit against his side, or his tail around his leg while he makes them dinner. He loves knowing there’s someone at home waiting for him, _wanting_ him. Wanting more than just a roll in the sheets, more than just one night.

Damn if that train of thought didn’t make him even harder…

Dean curls his fingers and Cas _mewls._ Dean smirks against his neck, immensely pleased with himself for being able to draw those sounds from his lover, being able to make Cas feel this good. There’s nothing fake or exaggerated about Cas’ noises. There’s nothing that says he’s just trying to make Dean feel good about himself. Cas is just lost in pleasure, and unabashedly letting it show. There’s a wicked sort of innocence in the way Cas sounds, and Dean’s movements falter ever so slightly when he wonders if this is Cas’ first time.

“Cas?” Dean asks, slowing his fingers, a monumental task if there ever was one.

“Mm?”

“Is this your first?” He feels rather than hears Cas respond, the ever so slight nod of his head.

“And you’re sure?” Dean asks, because as much as he wants this, he wants Cas to want this, wants Cas to continue to want this. Not because of heat or proximity, but because of him. Dean raises his head, looking down into those deep blue eyes, pupils dilated with need, cheeks flushed with arousal.

“More than anything,” Cas says, his voice airy and rough.

“Okay,” Dean says. Cas is _wet_ beneath, slick dripping out with the slide of his fingers. It’s a simple task stretching out the kit, his enthusiasm and heat paving the way for him.

He’s got three fingers in the small kit, scissoring them around, drawing sweet _sweet_ sounds from him. He’s the most responsive lover Dean has ever had and it’s in the most honest, sweet way. It’s not like the forced sounds he hears in porn videos, it’s pleasure pure and simple. He has no experience telling him he should be quiet, that he should be holding back and something about that makes his dick throb.

He does some shallow thrusts and Cas starts pushing into him, trying to drive his fingers deeper. Dean leans down, sucking Cas’ dusty nipple into his mouth. Cas is writhing beneath him at this point, fucking himself eagerly onto Dean’s fingers, broken moans spilling from plush lips.

Dean tries to take it slow, to give him more time. But there’s only so long he can hold back with something so beautiful and eager panting and whining under his touch.

He lasts thirty seconds.

Dean gives him a look, asking with his eyes if he’s ready and Cas nods, blue eyes bright and loving. Dean captures his lips, surprised by the eager tongue that prods at his own. He keeps kissing, swallowing Cas’ moans as he positions himself. Cas’ canines nip at his bottom lip, a little too rough but not enough to throw him.

He pushes in and he thinks he may die.

It’s hot and slick and _perfect_. Cas’ heels dig into his backside, his hands clawing at his back.

Dean doesn’t think he’ll last long.

“Feel so good, Cas,” Dean says, because he likes to praise his partners. It’s a little bit of reverse psychology, telling others because he’s so desperate to hear it himself.

“Dean,” Cas pants, his breath hot against Dean’s neck. Dean nips at his ears, the softness of them something his fingers had become well acquainted with, stroking them while they watched TV, but now it’s between his teeth, drawing a keen from the kit.

“I love you,” Dean gasps. He should be shocked, maybe appalled, maybe scared, but he’s not. It feels right.

“Love you, Dean.” Cas replies, his voice gravely and drawing hoarse at its overuse. “Come in me. Fill me up.”

That does it. He’s toppling over the edge he hadn’t realized he had been so close to already and feels hot splashes against his abdomen, a belated look down showing him Cas’ omega cock spurting white streaks, more than he thought usual for an omega and he’s a little bit captivated by it.

Dean wants to pull away, to clean them up because this is going to be horrible to clean up if they let it dry, but Cas is nuzzling his neck, purring contentedly and he can’t make himself move.

He’s happier than he thinks he’s ever been.

Until he thinks about how to tell Sam.

_Fuck._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to my beta Sanne/FPwoper (who I graciously met on Steffi/Diminuel's bottom Cas discord).   
> Hope this did alright, it was my first attempt at ABO stuff, smut stuff, Omega stuff...  
> Anyway. Enjoy!


End file.
